


Unfamiliar Territory

by miscellanium



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Developing Friendships, Gen, Massage, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscellanium/pseuds/miscellanium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shingo had expected Kurosaki Shun to be a difficult conversation partner, sure, but this was absurd. He'd arrived at the flat around noon with some food for the both of them and—he glanced at his watch—it was 2:00 now. Two solid hours of silence. Granted, they hadn't started out very well. </p><p>[contains spoilers. for the ygoanonmeme prompt "the doctor allows shun to leave the hospital after checking his injury, but he has to be under house arrest (at... wherever the heck reiji's letting him stay right now) for a few days to let his ribs heal. it's shingo's turn to visit shun today."]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfamiliar Territory

**Author's Note:**

> note to trans readers: there's very very brief misgendering at the beginning.

Shingo had expected Kurosaki Shun to be a difficult conversation partner, sure, but this was absurd. He'd arrived at the flat around noon with some food for the both of them and—he glanced at his watch—it was 2:00 now. Two solid hours of silence. Granted, they hadn't started out very well. He'd formally introduced himself, like any good guest, as Sawatari Shingo, the strongest man from LDS, and as he was setting out the sandwiches and fruit on a table Kurosaki'd cleared his throat.

"Sawatari? That politician's daughter?"

Kurosaki must have gone through news websites to orient himself in the city at some point.

"Son," Shingo had said, curt, sitting down and pulling out his d-pad to watch a TV show and wait for an apology which never came and that, apparently, was that.

At least Kurosaki was eating now. Shingo put his d-pad on the table without pausing it and went to make himself some coffee, ignoring the frown directed at his d-pad when he returned to his seat.

"So, nice place, huh? Akaba Reiji always goes all out when it comes to comfort," Shingo said, turning off his d-pad and fiddling with the coffee cup in front of him instead. No response. Fair enough; he'd said pretty much the same thing when he let himself in. He tried again: "Better than the hospital, right?"

Kurosaki looked at him now, those unsettling yellow eyes sharp and calculating. "In the hospital people left me alone."

"This is for your own good, you know!" Shingo snapped, bristling. "That injury won't finish healing if you go running off—"

"I don't need your help."

Shingo scoffed and started adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to his coffee. "Says the guy who needed me to save his butt during the battle royale."

Kurosaki just raised an eyebrow. A very insulting eyebrow.

Seething, Shingo gulped down a drink—and sputtered in pain, his tongue scalded, before slamming down his cup and shoving away from the table. After putting his life on the line against the Obelisk Force, this was the thanks he got?

"You could at least be grateful!" He jumped to his feet, making sure the chair clattered for emphasis, and jabbed a finger in Kurosaki's direction. "Us Lancers are gonna beat Academia and get Ruri back! Isn't that what you wanted?"

Kurosaki's hands tightened on his sandwich until the bread started to tear. "How do you know about her." It wasn't a question.

"Oh, uh, Akaba Reiji told me." While, yes, Akaba hadn't filled him in about everything—sometimes he swore he could still feel that penalty burning through him—they'd explained who Kurosaki was and how it was important he be protected. Shingo didn't quite follow why yet but that was pretty typical with Akaba so he wasn't too concerned.

"What else has Akaba told you?"

"Well, I." Shingo reached for his cup, stalling. "About what?"

Kurosaki looked at him like something small and easily destroyed. "Do they know where Yuuto is?" Even in pain the guy held himself like a fighter, muscles taut with a learned brutality.

Shingo set his coffee down without drinking. "Who's Yuuto?"

The other boy sagged in his chair, face blank, and Shingo was struck by how easy it was to forget that Kurosaki was a kid and not an adult. How old was he anyway? 15? Or Akaba's age, 16? Not unfamiliar territory after all, but now he was blinking at the ceiling and while Shingo knew what to do when you're trying to stop from crying he didn't have much experience being the bystander.

Shingo moved behind him, careful to move slow and keep his hands up, and when Kurosaki didn't shake him off he started massaging his shoulders, pressing hard through the thick layers of old clothes.

"My friends do this for me when I'm upset," Shingo said quietly.

Kurosaki grunted, turning his head to stare wet-eyed out the window, but he didn't tell Shingo to stop. After a moment he loosened a bit and leaned back, tension easing without vanishing.

"Your hands are bigger than his," Kurosaki murmured, voice low, then he sucked in a cheek and held it there as though with his teeth. Shingo didn't ask who he meant.

Instead Shingo hooked his fingers into the collar of Kurosaki's heavy coat and slipped it off his shoulders just far enough to better feel his body without stripping his defenses. In the hard muscles and sinew beneath his skin there was the story of a life stretched thin between raw days and nights, yet behind his ear his skin looked soft, vulnerable unlike the rest of him, and if Kurosaki were one of Shingo's friends he would kiss him there. But they weren't friends, not yet, so he kept himself to Kurosaki's shoulders.

Eventually Kurosaki closed his eyes, and as his breath evened out Shingo stepped away. The chair didn't seem like the best place for him to rest, his head back and neck stretched in a way that promised to undo the massage, but he was too big to move without help. Keeping his footsteps soft Shingo put away the food before heading for the door, but in the late afternoon light the sleeping boy looked almost younger than him and so he sighed and took his hand off the doorknob. He'd spent too many long evenings alone at home to do that to someone else; at least waiting until Kurosaki woke up from his nap couldn't hurt.

As Shingo sat down once more Kurosaki's eyebrows furrowed and his lips moved like he wanted to say something. But then he smiled, gentle, the expression strange—Kurosaki hadn't done that once since they'd met, Shingo realized, not that he'd seen. Sakaki Yuuya was always talking about making people smile through dueling, wasn't he? And learning how to find and hold onto happiness in others was a survival skill they might all need soon. With rough times ahead it wouldn't be easy, but whether in this dimension or the next Shingo would make sure Kurosaki smiled again.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please leave kudos and/or comments if you can, they mean a lot to me


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